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in a web of glass, pinned to the edges of vision

Voice Post

I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte

mucha mosaic

Voice Post

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VoicePost
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“So this is Pablo Neruda's Sonnet 25

Before I loved you, love, nothing was my own:
I wavered through the streets, among
Objects:
Nothing mattered or had a name:
The world was made of air, which waited.

I knew rooms full of ashes,
Tunnels where the moon lived,
Rough warehouses that growled 'get lost',
Questions that insisted in the sand.

Everything was empty, dead, mute,
Fallen abandoned, and decayed:
Inconceivably alien, it all

Belonged to someone else - to no one:
Till your beauty and your poverty
Filled the autumn plentiful with gifts.”

Transcribed by: fungol
  • Just lovely. :)
  • Oh, man. That is really beautiful. Awesome share, man.
  • (no subject) -
    • Everyone needs to read more of this Pablo Neruda guy.

      Honestly, he's one of the best poets of the 20th century. Him and Rainier Maria Rilke. Neruda does these lovely little nuggets of poems, while Rilke's much more of the long form.
  • Somehow, you sound nothing like i imagined.
    • And what, he asked a kajillion years later, did you think I would sound like other than that?
      • I think I excpected a lighter voice and a slightly different accent. Jou sound more like JTrom than I expected, I think.
  • I adore him. Thank you muchly for the comment. :]
    Sympathy and empathy are usually welcome in my book.
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